


Let Go

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Character injury<br/>Prompt: 051: Water<br/>Summary:  Ron never noticed, until Severus told him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go

“I hate this,” Ron muttered, closing his eyes as water dribbled around his face as his hair was washed for him.  
“I know you do.”  
  
The male ward attendant replied to him kindly and continued to wash his hair. Ron kept his eyes closed and wished the bottom of the bath would collapse and swallow him whole.  
  
“I heard a vicious rumour that they might let you out of here tomorrow,” the ward went on, moving his hands to sponge Ron's back with hot, soapy water from the bath.  
“Don't get my hopes up, that's not fair.”  
“I mean it. I had a conversation with your Healer this morning and they think you'll be alright to leave tomorrow morning, maybe the afternoon if your temperature spikes again overnight.”  
“Are you sure you're not bullshitting me?” Ron asked warily.  
“Completely sure. No more being bathed by someone else. No more hard hospital bed.”  
“And instead I get my family to watch over me like hawks for the first wrong move I make?” Ron said sourly.  
“Well, I would hope you like your own family better than you like me.”  
  
Ron let out a little laugh and made the water jiggle around him. He was glad that the bubbles covered his modesty, even though he had very little of that left after a month's stay in St. Mungo's.  
  
“And anyway, your boyfriend will be looking after you more than your family, won't he?”  
“I don't know,” Ron admitted. It was a subject he was trying his hardest not to think about. He didn't want to consider whether Severus still wanted him as an invalid.  
  
He wasn't sure whether Severus wanted him at all, if he was brutally honest with himself. The thought turned his stomach sour and he thought he might throw up. The heat of the bath wasn't helping him and his head began to grow dizzy. He knew that if he showed outward signs of lapsing there would be no way in Merlin's saggy y-fronts he would be leaving the hospital, and he was desperate to do that at all costs.  
  
“I've had enough now,” he announced. “Can I go back to my bed?”  
“Well, you're squeaky clean and strawberry scented, so I don't see why not.” The ward laughed. “Do you feel okay?”  
“Fine,” Ron lied, and even managed a smile.  
  
***  
Ron watched the Healer on duty sign off his discharge parchment with a lifting heart. The man must have had an overly elaborate signature, Ron decided, for all the time that he took in putting his name to the release.  
  
“If you feel faint, nauseous or even slightly off, you're to come back, Weasley, do you hear me?”  
“Yup,” Ron said happily, hopping off the bed too fast and making his head swim.  
“I don't think you're listening to me,” the man sighed. “I don't think I should let you go.”  
“I'm listening!” Ron cried. “Take it easy, come back if I feel even a twitch in my nose.”  
“I won't have Kingsley Shacklebolt breathing down my neck because I let one of his best Aurors go before they were ready and put them out of action for another two months.” The Healer looked at him with piercing eyes. “I know you want to go home, but you would be better off here, even for just another week. The only reason I've signed this,” he waved the clipboard with the parchment on it, “Is because I can see that you being here is causing a mental decline which won't help your overall health.”  
  
Ron swallowed and picked at his thumbnail. “I hate it here,” he admitted.  
“And Merlin knows you've never made a secret of the damned fact, Weasley. Go on then, be gone. And remember-”  
“Twitch in the nose,” Ron finished for him, tapping the aforementioned beak with his forefinger.  
  
In truth, he had woken up that morning feeling like hell, and he had hoped that it wouldn't show too much on the diagnostic scans the hospital had run on him before making the decision on his release. Ron was left wondering how it hadn't when he still felt so rough.  
  
“Take care.” The Healer extended his hand and Ron shook it.  
“Thank you for putting up with me.” He grinned.  
“All you Weasleys are the same,” the Healer teased, before turning on his heel and leaving Ron alone in his little hospital room.  
  
“Bye, room,” he announced, picking up his small case by the handle. “I hope I never, ever see you again.”  
  
With that, he proceeded out into the corridor, and towards the entrance, where he could use a Floo to travel back to the poky one up, two down he rented from an elderly witch in the seaside town of Swanage, down on the south coast of England. He loved his house, and as he joined the queue for the Floo, he was filled with a warm excitement at the thought of getting home and settling in. He was grateful that he had been left to make the journey alone, for it would make his homecoming all the sweeter, Ron thought.  
  
He chucked a knut in the collection box and took a handful of powder when the container opened on sensing his payment. He cast it in the flames, stepped in, and called out his destination. Ron closed his eyes to the spinning hospital, so glad to be leaving it that he couldn't even look at it as he whizzed away. He held his breath to avoid inhaling soot and was glad when his feet slammed into the grate at the other end, because his lungs were burning.  
  
Gasping, he stepped forward onto the stone hearth and coughed.  
  
“SURPRISE!”  
  
His scream was completely undignified and even less manly, and Ron was startled to find his entire family, Hermione, and best of all, Severus Snape crammed into his tiny sitting room. The space seemed to be over-filled with bodies.  
  
“What's all this?” he asked, dropping his case onto the carpet and kicking his heels on the stone.  
“A welcome home party, of course,” Hermione cried, bounding forward and throwing her arms around him. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “You didn't think we'd just let you come out with no celebration?”  
“Actually, I'd hoped you would.”  
  
Ron blushed and looked around at them all. Strung on the wall behind Severus' head was a banner which read 'Welcome Home Ron' and was accompanied by one beneath it in sloppier painting which said 'you silly daft bastard'.  
  
“I did that one,” George said, noticing Ron's gaze. “Because you are. Seriously, you're twenty-nine, you're meant to be over your hero phase by now. Stop jumping in front of curses meant for other people.”  
“I actually didn't this time,” Ron protested, but his words were lost as his mother got up and said something about serving the cake and getting him a drink.  
  
He let the thrum of his family move around him and Ron let Charlie guide him into a seat, which was still warm from his brother's backside's occupancy. Charlie looked into his eyes for a moment, checking that he was okay, and then stood up.  
  
“Mum, I think we should have some cake and then leave Ron and Severus to some peace and quiet. You can fuss over him later.”  
“Oh, she'll fuss till next year at least,” Arthur said wisely, earning himself a disapproving swat on the arm from his wife.  
  
Ron took the plate which she handed him and smiled at her. It was his favourite type of cake -Victoria Sponge, with butter cream and juicy plum jam in the middle. There was icing sugar dusted over the top. It looked delicious and he demolished the slice in two bites.  
  
“So skinny,” his mother clucked, pressing another on him. To please her, Ron ate it, even though he was already full. “They never give out enough food in that dreadful place.”  
“Not compared to you,” Charlie pointed out. “Who always gives everyone two helpings.”  
“You're growing boys,” she sniffed.  
“Yeah, growing sideways,” George laughed.  
  
Ron tried to keep his head on right as the noise level rose around them and he wondered what Severus was doing, and why he was even there.  
  
His family hadn't been exactly thrilled when he'd had to confess the identity of his latest beau, out of surprise more than dislike. Ron could tell that they didn't really know what to say to him about the subject, which was fine by him, because that meant not discussing it and avoiding awkward questions. The awkward questions, however, would still have to be talked through with Severus, to find out where they really were.  
  
It would have been a lie to say that they weren't in a relationship of sorts. Ron had a toothbrush at Severus' house, and Severus had the same at his. In fact, Severus had more possessions at Ron's house, because he spent much more time there. Ron liked the company and the way they could walk through the town as the sun set and look out over the water. Severus would buy some cockles from the seafood hut and Ron would buy an ice cream and moan about the stench of the cockles.  
  
 _Like an old married couple._  
  
He laughed to himself and looked up at the person nearest to him, which was Harry. He returned the smile given to him.  
  
***  
  
“Thank fuck,” Ron breathed, as the last robe hem whipped through the flames of his fire and disappeared, leaving just him and Severus alone in the house.  
“I told them perhaps a quieter affair would be best, but they seemed to think they knew you better.”  
“Arrogant bastards,” Ron moaned, tipping his head onto the back of the sofa and closing his eyes. “Thank you for being here, even though I haven't been able to say a single word.”  
  
Severus sat down next to him and picked up one of his hands. Ron smiled and rolled his head to look at the wizard, who was paler than usual. Ron thought there might have been more grey in his hair than there had been before he'd ended up in hospital.  
  
“I'm sorry I couldn't come to escort you home; you must have thought me cold.”  
“No, I was grateful you respected my wishes, actually, but now I know you had just been harangued by my mother.” Ron snorted and squeezed Severus' fingers.  
“How do you feel?”  
“Like shit,” Ron admitted, knowing that Severus wouldn't force him back to the hospital. They had a mutual dislike of the place.  
  
A mutual loathing might have been a better description.  
  
“I am so glad to see you home,” Severus breathed. “I didn't come and visit you as much as I should have, and for that I am truly sorry.”  
“I know you hate the place, bad memories and all that. I understood. Plus, it's not exactly private, so everyone would have known our business, innit.”  
“That is true,” Severus mused aloud. “I don't think that being front page news in the Prophet is exactly the way you want to return to society and your job.”  
“No chance of that for at least another month,” Ron muttered. “Signed me off on rest for a whole five weeks, can you believe that?”  
“With the force of the hex that hit and nearly murdered you?” Severus rolled his eyes. “I can absolutely believe it, and I think you should be grateful you haven't been given more.”  
  
Ron fell silent, feeling chastened. Severus reached over and stroked his cheek.  
  
“You look like you could do with a cup of tea and a long hard sleep.”  
“I want that if you're going to be there when I wake up,” Ron declared. “Don't leave. Not tonight. Stay.”  
“I have nowhere I would rather be.”  
  
***  
  
When Ron awoke, the house was filled with the smell of cooking. He couldn't quite place what, but as he dragged himself out of bed in complete darkness, he assumed that it would be dinner. He fumbled for his dressing gown and put it on, ignoring his slippers as he stepped out on the tiny landing and ducked to walk down the stairs. The smell grew stronger with each step that he took. He arrived on the ground floor and looked along the hall to see Severus standing at the cooker, wearing an apron, his shirt sleeves rolled make to the elbow, stirring a pot.  
  
“You make a lovely maid,” Ron commented, idling up to lean against the door frame. Severus started at his voice and then huffed.  
  
“Don't sneak up on a man like that, Weasley, you could do him an injury.”  
“Sorry. My nose smelt the food and had to follow. What're you making and why?”  
“I'm making Carbonara, as I know it's one of your favourites, and I'm making it because I thought you would be hungry and wouldn't feel like making anything yourself. Sit down at the table.”  
  
Ron looked to the set kitchen table with a candle flickering between the two places. He smiled to himself and did as he was told.  
  
  
“I'm nearly finished,” Severus advised him. “How do you feel? Any better?”  
“My head is clearer,” Ron said, shaking it. “But everything else feels just as heavy.”  
“It will take time. The Healers are right, you need the time off to rest.”  
  
Ron nodded and didn't reply, looking down at the bread rolls that Severus had put out on a plate between their two seats. He picked one up and began to work on it, putting it to his mouth and chewing off chunks. He knew the curse that had hit him had been a vicious one, and he had been temporarily classed as mad _again_ , for the second time in his life -the first being during his odd experience with the brains in the Ministry aged sixteen. The hex which had ravaged his body had caused him to scream unexpectedly, contort his body into impossible, painful positions and allowed his most darkest secrets to tumble freely from his mouth under its influence.  
  
And then the scratching had started. The madness had caused him to gouge great chunks of his skin with his own nails and anything he could reach; for a body that was already scarred, his was now on overload. He knew the hospital had been forced to restrain him for his own safety. He had lain in madness for days until they had found a way to lift the curse, all the while afraid that it would be too late, and he might be permanently insane.  
  
“It's a good thing they have the man that did this to you,” Severus said quietly, stirring his pot. “Or I might have to hunt him down myself and commit murder.”  
“Don't be daft,” Ron dismissed.  
“I mean it, Ron.”  
  
Rebuked once more, Ron looked down at his lap. Suddenly he was tired again, and he felt extremely ill, and like he needed every single day off work that he had been given. He jumped when cool fingers carded through his hair and rested on the crown of his skull.  
  
“You need looking after,” Severus said, matter-of-factly. “You need someone who can be here for you.”  
“Well, I live alone.” Ron made a face. “So fat chance of that.”  
“I will be here, if you'll have me. I like your house, I like the area. It's quaint and not entirely removed from society. I will look after you, Ron, if you will let me.”  
  
Severus dropped into a crouch and looked up at him; Ron blushed.  
  
“I didn't know if you would still want me,” he admitted, closing his eyes. “I thought you might do a runner. Nobody likes high maintenance partner, Severus, which is what I'll be for the next month at least.”  
“Maybe, but you won't always be so. Things will settle down and you will heal, and we can move on from there.”  
“Severus... this is kind of a big thing. My family will need to know and then... once they get their hooks in, don't think you'll be able to back away easily. I come with a lot of shit.”  
“So do I. I come with a history of depression and of drinking, of severe sarcasm and of sharp barbs. I'm not easy either, Ron.”  
  
They fell silent and looked at one another. Thinking about it, Ron found he couldn't even remember how they had come to go on their first date, or how it had proceeded to the second.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
“How did we end up going out together?” Ron laughed, shaking his head. “It's just so fucking unlikely.”  
“I believe there was a hefty amount of wine involved,” Severus recalled. “Sparking from a Ministry function in which we were both rather bored. Do you really not remember?”  
  
Ron shook his head.  
  
“Worrying.” Severus' brow furrowed.  
“A bit. I wonder what else I've forgotten?”  
“Full name, shoe size, height?”  
“Ronald Bilius Weasley, size thirteen, six foot two.”  
“Well, you've got the important bits,” Severus said dryly, rising to his feet again. “You need nothing else as I can remind you of it.”  
“Could the curse have caused memory loss?”  
“Yes.”  
“Shit,” Ron breathed, annoyed once more at his attackers.  
  
He could have lost _everything_ , and he had grown to have so much since the end of the war. He even looked to have found a happy relationship at last. Someone had tried to take it away from him. Ron wondered if it meant that he was not meant to be content.  
  
“Do you think everything happens for a reason?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.  
“To some extent, yes.”  
“So there's a reason that I was nearly sent insane?”  
“Maybe. If the fates decide so.”  
  
Ron said nothing and thought about it. He listened to the sounds of Severus dishing up dinner and waited for the man to sit down opposite him. His free hand was captured in Severus' own.  
  
“Whatever has happened, it is in the past. Please don't dwell on things you cannot change. If my life has taught me anything, it is that.”  
“But that doesn't mean you stop wanting to change them,” Ron protested.  
“Well, no, but in time you will teach yourself to let it go. You were brutally attacked and the person who committed it has received justice for his crime. You need to let yourself have justice and stop going over and over it in your mind. I know you, Ron, and I know you're torturing yourself with the memories and wishes that you could prevent it from happening.”  
  
Ron stared at him, his throat hot.  
  
“And to be honest, I'm rather glad you've been off work for a month and will be for another. When we met you were wound tighter than a spring, ready to release at any moment and it would be catastrophic. Too many years of stress and responsibility. You need to let go and this is helping you to do so. Maybe that is your reason.”  
  
Severus finished his speech and began to twiddle some tagiatelli around his fork prongs. Ron simply stared at him.  
  
“Your food is getting cold,” Severus advised.  
“I had no idea that you thought I was tightly wound.”  
“I did. I do. You're not quite there yet.”  
“But I'm fine,” Ron protested. “I'm fine, Severus.”  
  
Severus chewed a mouthful and set his fork in the food.  
  
“Ronald, you are anything but fine. And you damn well know it. You've been lying to your Healers to get released, which I perfectly understand. But I will not have you lying to me, understood?”  
  
Ron gaped at him.  
  
“Eat your food,” Severus said, more forcefully. “Before I eat it for you.”  
  
***  
  
Bundled up in his warmest coat, Ron leant against the seafront railings and inhaled a deep lungful of air. It was salty and tinged with seaweed. He smiled to himself and looked out at the water, which lapped against the empty beach. With the time getting on and it being the middle of the week, the place was empty and he was able to enjoy his view in peace and quiet under the darkening night sky. Severus was off getting them their nightly treats and Ron relished the moment alone, to try and get his head straight.  
  
He wasn't sure if he would ever achieve it.  
  
“I thought you could live wildly tonight,” Severus announced. “I got you a two flavour ice cream.”  
“Godric, you're rocking the boat,” Ron joked, accepting the cone in his hand. “Thanks.” He looked at Severus' pot of cockles with distaste. “They look like snot.”  
  
Severus wisely ignored him and opened the lid of his polystyrene pot. Ron lapped happily at his ice cream for a while, taking in the view.  
  
“You were right,” he said after a while, turning to look at Severus. “I'm not fine.”  
“No,” Severus confirmed.  
“But I will be,” Ron said confidently.  
  
Severus' smile was moonlit as he gave it. Ron couldn't remember the last time he had felt so happy.  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
